


Wrong Number

by MalcolmReynolds



Series: Wrong Number [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, LBSC Plunny, Ladybug!Luka, Lukanette, Wrong number, designer!Marinette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22899211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalcolmReynolds/pseuds/MalcolmReynolds
Summary: Marinette meant to text Alya, but instead texted a complete stranger. He seemed nice enough though, if only she wasn't such a klutz...
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: Wrong Number [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709578
Comments: 261
Kudos: 437





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I blame every single person on the Lovebugs and Snakecharmers for this. (Feel free to do the same)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng sat alone in the sewing room. All the seamstresses had left for the night hours ago, but Marinette had been hit by inspiration, and wanted to get a prototype of it together before the monthly inspiration meeting the next day. Her boss had really been pushing them to try new things and find new inspiration, and, well, Marinette had never been brave enough to make lingerie before. 

The piece was simple enough, sweet and not at all revealing. A red and black polka-dotted baby-doll with black lace accents, matching panties, and black stockings with red seams. 

Snatching up her designs and her purse, she ducked into one of the dressing rooms to try it on. She grinned at herself in the mirror. Pretty hot, she thought to herself, just like their new Ladybug superhero that she’s drawn the inspiration from. She quickly cut those thoughts off, half the population of Paris had a crush on their new superhero, and his skin-tight suit did nothing to hide any of his physical attributes. 

Sighing, Marinette picked up her phone, flicking her thumb across the screen to turn it on. When it didn’t respond, she looked down at it.  _ Dead. _ Of course. She’d forgotten to plug it in before she came down to the sewing room. She picked up her work phone. Well, sending pictures to Alya was sort of work related. It was pictures of her work after all. And she did want a second opinion before showing it off at the inspiration meeting the next day. 

She snapped a picture in the dressing room mirror, and typed in Alya’s number from memory. 

**_Hey! Had some late night inspiration. What do you think? Should I show it to A tomorrow?_ **

Luka Couffaine was sitting on his couch, trying to figure out a new song. Nothing seemed to be coming together, and his frustration was growing. When his phone pinged with an incoming text, he hoped for a distraction in the form of one of his friends inviting him out. He hesitated to open an unknown number, but his friend Louis was always losing his phone and borrowing phones from random strangers to text him and invite him out. 

When he opened the message, he got a distraction, although not the one he was expecting. Immediately after, another text came in. 

**_It’s inspired by that hot new superhero that saved us from that stone guy._ **

He read the messages before his eyes flicked to the picture.  _ Whoa. _

It was a full length picture, obviously taken in some kind of professional fitting room, and the woman standing there was just gorgeous. Her dark hair was thrown up into a messy bun, held in place with pencils, although several tendrils had escaped, framing her face and trailing down her neck. The outfit was completely innocent, or at least as innocent as lingerie could be. She wasn’t showing anything that she shouldn’t be showing to a complete stranger, and significantly less than he’d seen on girls at the beach, but still.

He wasn’t sure if it was the fact that HE had inspired it, or the stockings (he’d always had a weakness for stockings) or just the woman wearing it, but he felt a surge of protectiveness towards her and didn’t want anyone else to see the outfit or the picture. 

Before he could text her back with any of this though, his phone vibrated with an incoming video call. His thumb reacting before he could think it through, he accepted the call, and was greeted by a view of the back side of the same woman, a few steps from the phone, pulling a box down off a shelf. 

_ Shit. She’s trying to kill me.  _ He thought to himself, clearing his throat so that words could actually come out without him sounding like a teenage boy again. At the sound, she whirled around, blue eyes huge as the box slid from her fingers. 

_ He’s hot!  _ Her brain supplied, as she took in the blue eyed man who was staring at her, startled, from her phone. As she watched, she shook himself, his shaggy black hair dancing and the blue tips catching the light. He swallowed, hard, and snapped his mouth shut on what he was about to say.

“You’re not Alya!” was all that she could manage. 

The man chuckled, and Marinette felt her cheeks heat at the sound. 

“No, I’m not Alya. I’m Luka. I’m sorry, I don’t know Alya, but whoever you’re wearing that for would have to be an absolute idiot not to appreciate it.”

Marinette squeaked and looked down at herself, realizing that she was still only wearing the lingerie. She looked around desperately and ended up snatching up a drop cloth that she only had to stretch a little to grab. 

Luka groaned. Of course there were matching panties, because, why wouldn’t there be? If he hadn’t been so busy staring at the stockings when she had called him, he’d probably have noticed it then. He felt the color that was staining his cheeks subside a little as she wrapped herself in a pink cloth. When a voice in his head that sounded entirely too much like his best friend pointed out that it now looked like she was draped in a sheet he growled at the voice to shut up, and tried to focus on the words the girl at the other end of the phone was saying. 

“...just so sorry. My phone was dead and I meant to call Alya. I must have dialed your number by accident. I’m a designer, and this is one of the ideas that I want to submit tomorrow at our inspiration meeting. I would never wear this. I mean I would, but I don’t have anyone to wear it for.” She looked up at the phone, meeting Luka’s eyes. “And why are you not shutting me up? Oh, God, I can’t believe I just said all that.”

Dropping her head back into her hands, Marinette covered her face, but couldn’t hide the blush that had turned her ears the same color as her outfit. She heard him chuckle, and she whined at the sound, surprised that she hadn’t just spontaneously combusted from embarrassment. Calling a wrong number was one thing, but sending a random guy, a random  _ hot _ guy her brain reminded her, a picture of herself in her underwear, and then  _ calling _ him was possibly the stupidest thing she’d ever done. 

Luka chuckled again. “For what it’s worth, I definitely find your design inspiring.” At her startled squawk he blushed. “I mean I’m a musician, and seeing you in that outfit definitely makes me want to make music.” Her eyes went wide. 

“On my guitar!” He practically screamed, and snatching up his acoustic started playing a song that spoke of embarrassment and falling in love; of admiration and new beginnings. 

Slowly, Marinette dropped her hands completely from her face and studied the man on the other side of the screen. He had a laid back look, like what was on the inside mattered more than what was on the outside. He wasn’t traditionally handsome, but a kindness in his ocean blue eyes, and a ripple of muscle along the sleeve of his shirt would have had her melting, even if the ethereal music he was playing hadn’t.

As he wound down, the man,  _ Luka _ , she reminded herself, looked up to meet her eyes. She managed a smile for him, her eyes still wide and blue and the color made more vibrant by the soft pink of her cheeks. She was watching him in awe as he touched the strings of his guitar. 

“That was beautiful”, she breathed, the hand holding the sheet relaxing, and let it slip a little from the base of her throat. “M-my design made you feel all of that?”

Luka nodded, still not fully trusting his voice. 

Her still hesitant voice asked, “you really liked it?” She took in his dyed hair and painted nails, pierced ears and the hint of the tattoo she saw peaking out. “It’s not too simple? Too plain?”

“Little Bug, after seeing you in that outfit, I’m pretty sure I owe you dinner. Or breakfast.”

He smirked at her, and her cheeks flushed, but she smiled shyly back at him. “I might let you buy me breakfast.”

His jaw dropped and he gaped at her for a few moments, before pulling himself together. “How about Saturday? Maybe a brunch? I have a gig tomorrow night.”

“Sounds great. You have my number. Text me with the details? I, uh, need to go change.”

He nodded, and they hung up. Luka flopped back onto his back with a sigh and a huge grin on his face. Tikki floated into view beside him, and Luka turned his face to the little kwami. “Ladybugs really are good luck, aren’t they?”

She just laughed her tinkling little laugh and smiled at him. “I think you forgot something.”

Luka looked at her confused. “What do you mean? I have her number right here. I’m going to save it so that I can confirm our plans.”

“And what are you going to save it under?” When Luka froze, Tikki smiled knowingly. “You forgot to ask her name!” Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands, but then picked up his phone and carefully saved her information under the name ‘Little Bug’ with the picture she’d sent him, carefully cropped to just her face, for her profile picture. 

Marinette took off her outfit, wrapping it carefully and setting it aside for the next day’s meeting. Picking up her phone, she saved Luka’s number, then carefully dialed Alya’s. When her friend answered, she burst into hysterical tears, letting out all the pent up emotion of the last 15 minutes. 

Alya tried to placate her the best she could, but eventually just had to ask. “Marinette, what is the matter?”

Wailing, Marinette cried, “I think I have a date!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette shows off her work at the meeting and hangs out with Nino and Alya that evening.

Marinette was at her drafting table working herself into a tizzy over the four items she was going to present. The last-minute lingerie was amongst them, as was a boxy, distressed leather jacket that had a very feminine design of a kittycorn embroidered on it; a pink, one-shouldered sundress with an asymmetrical hemline, and a black men’s vest with silver studs around the collar. She had her sketches, her notes, and the final pieces laid out and ready to go, but it was the waiting that was getting to her. 

Her work phone buzzed with an incoming message, and Marinette involuntarily smiled when she saw the name. Luka.

**_Luka: Hey. I just wanted to wish you good luck today. I know you were nervous about your meeting, but don’t be. If your other pieces are half as good as the one I saw, you’ll do fine._ **

She blushed to think of exactly which piece he had seen her in, but was smiling as she picked up her phone to reply.

**_LittleBug: Thank you. Meeting is in about 15 minutes. I’ll let you know how it goes tomorrow. There’s this little cafe down near the Seine._ Couleuvre.**

Luka grinned. She really wanted to meet him. She seemed shy and sweet, but he liked that she wasn’t afraid of him. 

**_Luka: My gig doesn’t go too late tonight, so 10:30?_ **

**_LittleBug: It’s a date.  
LittleBug: Or whatever.   
LittleBug: Or just people getting brunch together._ **

**_Luka: It’s a date._ **

Smiling, Luka leaned back, setting his phone down, and settled his acoustic into his lap. He was surprised at how nervous he was. He was 27 years old. It wasn’t like he’d never been on a first date before, but this felt more important than that. 

There were 4 other junior designers at the meeting who had pieces to show. Most of them only had one or two, and Marinette felt a little weird having so many, but her boss, Adrien Agreste, hadn’t questioned it, simply given her one of his patented runway smiles and told her she’d been very creative this month. 

Adrien was a good boss. He was a kind man, insanely attractive, and the face of his father’s brand for the past dozen or so years. Just about every new hire had a crush on him at some point, but he never showed the slightest bit of favoritism to any of them, always the consummate professional. He was stoic in appearance, like his father, but he spoke gently, and led with kindness rather than discipline. 

Marinette had been no exception, stammering and stuttering around him for almost a year when she started working at Gabriel. Her infatuation had long since faded, and she was able to talk to him like a normal person. She showed him her designs, both the sketches and the finished pieces, and he hummed. He dismissed the dress almost immediately as pretty but uninspired. The jacket he paused a little longer over, praised the workmanship and the idea, but as they were working on the summer collection, it didn’t fit the look they were going for. 

The vest he spent a while pouring over. He complimented the notched lapels, and tiny, silver, pyramid-shaped studs that lined the collar and the lapels, all the way down to where the two sides overlapped. The two large silver buttons that held the vest closed were also raised, and Adrien ran his finger over them, thoughtfully. “This definitely has potential.” He admitted, slowly. “It’s not terribly consistent with the Gabriel image, but I like it.”

He turned to the final piece, the lingerie and choked slightly. He ran his hand down the silk and rubbed the lace between his fingers. The color was slightly raised in his cheeks when he turned to Marinette. “Now this, we could work with.”

Face flushed in triumph, Marinette returned to her work desk, her two rejected pieces thrown over her arm. She wasn’t terribly upset. Any rejected pieces they were allowed to throw away or keep, as long as they didn’t sell them, and Alya had loved the pink dress on Marinette. They were going out that evening to see a band play, one that Alya’s DJ boyfriend swore was one of the best new sounds in Paris, and Marinette now had a new outfit to wear to the club. 

The pink detailing of the embroidery, as well as the pink lining of the jacket perfectly highlighted the pinks in the dress. She was excited to have a chance to hang out with friends and to go dancing. She’d been so busy lately and she really missed just losing herself in the music.

Before leaving work for the weekend, Marinette changed into her sundress and leather jacket, slipping a few slices of cheese into the vacuum-sealed portion of her specially designed purse. A black look from the even blacker creature that resided there, caused Marinette to giggle, and drop a slice into his open mouth. He responded with a soft purr, as he curled up and promptly fell asleep. 

Marinette laughed at Plagg’s antics, petting his sleeping head before zipping her purse closed and running downstairs to meet with Alya in the lobby. The friends hugged, and Alya admired her outfit. “Send pictures to any random guys today?” Alya teased, smirking. 

Marinette blushed, but smiled. “No, it’s definitely a date, though. He texted me to wish me good luck at the inspiration meeting. He seems really sweet.”

Alya grinned at her friend. “I’m happy for you. I also want you to make sure your phone is charged in case he turns out to be a creep, and I’ll send Nino to kick his ass.”

Laughing, Marinette hugged her friend as they approached the club, skipping the last few steps to the front door. They spotted Nino across the room, it being still a little early for the club to be truly crowded. Alya’s steps sped up, but as Marinette took in the blue-tipped hair of the man talking to Nino, her footsteps slowed. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

When Nino waved at Alya and stepped towards her, the man with the guitar strapped to his back turned, and his ocean blue eyes met hers, and she gasped. “Luka?”

Alya looked back and forth between Luka and Marinette. “Wait, seriously? Luka Couffaine is your wrong number?”

Blushing heavily, she nodded and smiled sheepishly up at him. He smirked back down at her. “I like this outfit, too, Little Bug.”  
Alya squealed and gripped her arm, as Marinette flushed even darker. “Marinette! Did he just call you ‘Little Bug’?”

Luka smiled to himself. Marinette. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. She definitely had that shyness that he’d seen the night before, and something sweet in her appearance despite the fact that she looked no less sexy than she had the night before, but he felt like telling her that would be a bad move. 

Instead, he turned to her friend. “You must be Alya. The intended recipient.” Alya nodded and poked Marinette in the ribs. She let out a squeak, but, after a glance at her friends, looked up at Luka. 

“You must be in the band Nino’s been raving about. I mean, after last night I knew you were good.” When he blushed, she hastened to add, “At music! On your guitar. When you played for me.” She grabbed his forearm. ”Why are you not shutting me up? Why do you never stop me?”

Chuckling, he opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted but a call from the stage. He called out an acknowledgment, then turned back to them. “Will you wait for me after the show, Little Bug? Marinette?”

The way that he said her name made her sway towards him slightly, but Alya’s amused snort had her straightening her spine and standing firmly in place. Slightly breathlessly, she agreed to his request. “Of course, Luka.” She paused, and then confidence slid into her request. “I came because I love dancing. Will you come dance with me afterward?”

It was his turn for color to heat his cheeks. “You might regret that. I’m not a terribly good dancer, but I would love to.” He gave her one final smile, then headed to the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... we didn't quite make it to the date... maybe next time??
> 
> I blame all the beautiful LBSC ladies for making me write this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is dancing, but technically no date yet. It was a brunch date, after all...

Luka watched Marinette from the stage. True to her word, she was standing next to the chair at the high top she was sharing with Alya and Nino, swaying her body in time with the music, eyes closed, and a little half-smile playing at her lips. As much as he’d loved seeing her in silk the previous day, and the leather when she’d breezed through the club entrance, the simple cotton sundress that she was wearing made him wonder if he would ever have a clean thought when it related to her. 

She still had her eyes closed, arms up over her head, when one of the club’s regulars approached her. He wasn’t a bad looking guy, tall and well built, with pale skin, fair hair and pink-tinged eyes of an albino. The problem was, he knew it, and was terrible at taking no for an answer. Abner now had Marinette in his sights, and Luka was onstage, mid song and could do nothing to intervene. 

Abner slid one hand around her waist, pulling her back against him to sway his hips in time with hers, Luka saw Marinette’s hand grip Abner’s shoulder, and then, in a blink, the guy was sprawled on his back in front of her. Luka was incredibly grateful that he didn’t sing on their current song, because his mouth was suddenly completely dry, and he knew he no longer stood any chance at having a clean thought about Marinette.

Apparently this was something that happened often enough that neither Alya nor Nino batted an eye at the body sprawled on the ground. Nino signalled one of the bouncers to come and help Abner, who was escorted from the club. The bouncer then brought Marinette a drink, and they laughed together, before he headed back to a stony-faced surveillance of the room. 

When the set was over, Luka made his way down from the stage, and over to them, as Nino gushed over his performance, and Marinette kept stealing glances at him through her eyelashes. He was sweaty and tired, and knew he didn’t look his best, but she had yet to throw him to the floor like poor Abner, so he figured he wasn’t doing too bad. Maybe one day, though… He cut off that line of thinking quickly.

He turned to Marinette and grinned. “I believe I promised you a dance. Let me go wash some of this makeup off, and grab Claire. I hate leaving her alone for too long.”

Marinette tilted her head. “Claire?”

“My guitar. She gets downright cranky if you leave her alone for too long.”

Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of understanding as she looked up at him with wide blue eyes. He smiled down at her and winked, disappearing through a door just to the side of the stage. Marinette watched him go, cheeks flushed, until Alya nudged her shoulder. “Wow, Mari! I haven’t seen you like this in a while.”

Alya turned to Nino. “He’s a good guy, right?”

“Luka? Yeah. He’s got a bit of a reputation for getting rough, but every time I’ve seen it, he’s just stepping in when some asshole won’t take no for an answer. Never starts the fight, always ends it, though. Tries to talk his way out of it if he can.” 

Nino smoothed his hand over his hair. He’d finally let Alya talk him into going without a hat over the past several months, and still enjoyed the novelty of running his fingers over his hair. “So yeah. I’d say Luka’s a good guy.” He chuckled. “Not that Mari needs anyone looking out for her.”

The girls joined in his laughter, although Marinette still looked thoughtful at what Nino had revealed to them about Luka. She liked that he stood up for people, even those he didn’t know, and he seemed like a true gentleman, despite the tough rocker look he cultivated. 

Her eyes wandered back to the backstage door, just as Luka came back through it, hair slightly damp, stage makeup removed, and a guitar case slung over his back. A soft smile crept across his face as his eyes met hers, and her blush roared back in full force, causing his grin to widen and turn slightly mischievous. 

Sauntering over, he stowed his guitar safely under the table and extracted a promise from Nino to watch it, since he was here for the next band as well. He held his hand out to Marinette, whose eyes hadn’t left him since he had come through the backstage door. Slipping her hand into his, she tugged him out onto the dance floor. Once there, she brought his hand to her waist and turned so her back was against his chest, before reaching back and guiding his other hand to her other side. She could feel the rumble of his laugh rather than hear it, and she felt his warm breath tickle the shell of her ear as he leaned in close to speak to her. 

“You’re not going to throw me are you?” She could hear his laugh this time, as well as feel it. “Don’t get me wrong, if I deserve it, by all means throw me, but you want this, right? You’re OK with me touching you?”

It was her turn to laugh as she turned her head and tipped it back against his chest to look up at him. A smile danced around her lips as she answered, “I put them there, remember? I know we don’t know each other that well, yet, but I trust you.” She rested her hands on top of his, twining their fingers together. As she once again started swaying to the music, she slid their joined hands down to her hips, encouraging him to join her.

They danced for the next several hours, taking breaks to chat with Nino and Alya, or just resting at the table, watching the others and talking. Before they knew it, the club was closing down. Luka slung his guitar case across his back and offered to walk Marinette home, as the Metro had shut down for the night. She accepted and slipped her hand into his. The quiet of the night seemed even more intense after the noise of the club, and they kept their voices low as they walked. 

As they passed a park, Marinette’s eyes lit up, and she tugged Luka towards the entrance telling him there was something she wanted to show him. Together they followed the trail deep into the park until Marinette stopped at an open grassy patch. She dropped his hand, and sat on the grass, then lay back to peer up at the sky. Luka stared down at her, entranced, for a few moments, watching the moonlight play across her face. 

Then he lay down with her, folding his hands behind his head, looking up at the stars. Stars! He looked over at Marinette wonderingly, and she smiled at him, her expression soft. Her voice a whisper, so she didn’t disturb the stillness around them, she turned her head so her breath brushed his ear as she spoke. “I discovered this place a few years ago. One of the few spots in the city where you can actually see the stars. It’s just breathtaking. I come out here whenever I need a break from responsibility, or I need inspiration, or I just have to breathe. 

Luka hummed his appreciation, the woman beside him having once again taken his ability to form a coherent thought. As they were laying there, soaking in the starlight, he rolled onto his side to face Marinette. She had turned to face him, propped up on one elbow, and he reached over to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face. His thumb traced her cheekbone, as his hand softly cupped the side of her face. 

Her free hand was on his chest, clasping and unclasping his shirt, pulling him in, rather than pushing him away. He leaned in, his lips inches from hers, their breath mingling in the warm spring air. “May I?” He breathed the words, and her lips parted in response, a smile tugging gently at the corners of them.

The reply, yes, came out like a sigh, and Luka’s eyes fluttered closed, only to fly open again at the crash and roar he heard from coming outside of the park. An akuma. He sighed heavily and told Marinette to run home as fast as she could, as he took off running, claiming his home was in the other direction.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see the superheroes in action! But who is this new villain, Papillion?
> 
> And more importantly... does the date happen yet????

Scarlet Beetle stood, watching the akuma as he attempted to corner a young man. He couldn’t really disagree with Papillon, not truly. She only went after criminals. Well, technically, her minions went after those who were suspected of perpetrating crimes, as Lady Midnight often corrected him. 

He thought of his partner, tiny and fierce, holder of the black cat kwami. Incredibly devoted to justice, insistent that crime is taken care of through the appropriate channels, rather than the vigilantism being applied by Papillon. He had a more laid-back approach to things and was happy to get criminals off the street in any way they could. 

However, he strongly objected to taking a person’s righteous anger and having their emotions used against them. Papillon never got her hands dirty, she made others do the work, and that’s why he was out here, trying to stop her. 

The akuma, an amorphous creature that seemed to be primarily constructed of water, was oozing along the alleyway when Scarlet Beetle heard the soft steps of his partner behind him. He turned to see her approaching, all lithe black leather and acid green outlining. 

Long hair as dark as her name, was bound in a long ponytail. Black ears, outlined in acid green perched on the top of her head, matching her eyes surrounded by a black mask, outlined in the same color as her cat eyes. 

Her black suit had a thin chevron of green around her thighs and biceps, and along her collarbone, and a black belt around her waist flared out into a tail. She smiled at him, sharpened canines glinting in the streetlight. 

Lady Midnight stepped out of the shadow to stand next to Scarlet Beetle and together they surveyed the alleyway. 

"The alley deadends just around the corner. There's no way out." Lady Midnight reported.

The pair waited until the young man realized there was no way out. As he curled in on himself and started to whimper, the pair dropped down in front of him. The akuma continued to flow towards them as Scarlet Beetle pulled out his yo-yo to call for his Lucky Charm. A giant sponge fell from the sky, and he laughed as he set up a barricade, centered around the object. 

The akuma continued its relentless forward progress, streaming straight at the sponge, finding itself being absorbed as it tried to flow through the barrier. As the last of the akuma was absorbed, a trophy that had been suspended inside the akuma’s body clattered to the street. Lady Midnight neatly leaped over the barrier, landing behind the trophy, and snapping it in two. Out flew a bright violet butterfly which Scarlet Beetle quickly caught and cleansed, as Lady Midnight stalked back towards the young man the akuma was chasing, neatly snatching him up, before he could run.

Scarlet Beetle turned back towards the victim, a woman in her mid-forties, whose child was a victim of bullying. Her righteous anger at the children who had been picking on her son was used against her, turning her tears into a liquid monster bent on avenging her child. Lady Midnight threw him a wink and a saucy salute before picking up the young man the akuma had been after and depositing him at the closest police station.

They’d learned that Papillion only went after criminals, those who had committed crimes but evaded justice, and so they just handed them over to the police and let them sort out the charges. When they’d realized this about the targets of Papillion’s fury, she’d taken over the transport of the criminals, as her partner had less patience for the workings of justice. 

She’d been thinking of Scarlet Beetle when she created the lingerie that she’s accidentally sent pictures of to Luka. Luka, who’d she’d almost kissed and then left in the park. Geez. He must think she’s crazy. Lady Midnight shook her head. She’d worry about that after she dropped this punk off at the police station. 

Lady Midnight leaped from roof to roof with the young man, who was less inclined to cooperate now that his life was no longer in imminent danger. She found that leaping over a few rooftops, and free-falling several times before catching herself with her baton had her burden whimpering and clinging tight to her, eyes screwed shut. The desk clerk at the station started when she walked in with him thrown over her shoulder, but quickly moved to take custody.

Her thoughts turned back to her partner now that she was free to ruminate. Scarlet Beetle was about the same age as she was, maybe a little older, and covered with lean muscle. His suit was mostly black, with a splash of red down the center below his pecs, covering the inside of his thighs to his knees. His mask, too, was outlined in bright red, the black interior highlighting his bright blue eyes.

An unruly shock of black hair tumbled around his head, blowing back from his face whenever he swung on his yo-yo. The way his muscles bunched made it obvious that the ridges along the abdomen of his suit were not just for show. His only nod to the spots of the ladybug was a circle with five dots, emblazoned on his chest. 

Scarlet Beetle had been banned by his partner from transporting the victim of Papillion’s ire to the police after he’d been a little rougher than she deemed necessary and one man had arrived at the station with a few bruises that were not a result of the akuma. So he was left dealing with the true victims of Papillion, those who had been under her direct control. He felt sorry for them, their emotions were manipulated, their actions were not their own, and they were invariably confused and upset when they came back to themselves. 

Normally he took his time, comforting them and making sure they were able to make it back to their loved ones, but he was feeling a little rushed this time, he felt bad about Marinette, and the way he left her in the park, especially after she’d freaked out a little when they’d heard the akuma, and he wanted to call her as soon as possible. 

He dropped the victim off at her house and shot a message to Lady Midnight, saying that he had somewhere to be, but would catch up with her soon. They usually met up afterward to debrief each other, but he wanted to get home and call Marinette and be sure she had made it home safely. He mentally chastised himself… he really just wanted to call Marinette. Two days ago he had no idea she existed, and he’d found himself idly checking out his very attractive partner, but now, he couldn’t think of anything but Marinette. 

He chuckled at Lady Midnight’s response to his brief text.

**SB: _I’m busy. Check-in with you later?_**

**LM: _At 4am? Who is she?_**

**SB: _*eyeroll* What makes you think it’s a woman?_**

**LM: _Fine. Who is HE?_**

**SB: _Goodnight Kitty._**

Landing in an alley near the park where he’d left Marinette, Scarlet Beetle looked around and then dropped his transformation. Scanning his surroundings one more time, he pulled out his phone and texted Marinette.

**L: _I hope you made it home. I had a great time with you tonight. Are we still on for brunch?_**

Lady Midnight dropped onto the balcony of her home, the darkness hiding her as she slipped inside. Dropping her transformation, she went to the refrigerator and offered Plagg a selection of cheeses, after petting his head. While he pretended not to enjoy it, he couldn’t help letting out a purr. 

Leaving her kwami to his snack, Marinette picked up her phone, hoping to see a text from Luka, even after weirdly running off on him an hour ago. Nothing. Her heart sank, but she couldn’t really blame him. She figured she would send him a text, but when she went to text him, there was nothing there. Scrolling through her contacts, she didn’t see Luka’s name there, either. 

She started pacing. Was it all a dream? Had she imagined this wonderful guy? She looked over at Plagg, but he merely paused in his inhalation of the cheese wheel to let out a belch of fetid smelling air. 

Marinette turned and shook her phone, hoping that Luka’s number would show back up. She knew it was a combination of Alya’s and her mothers, which is how she’d ended up dialing it in the first place, but couldn’t remember the exact combination of digits.

She stepped forward, but her left foot caught in her bag and she tripped, dumping everything out of her bag, her work phone skittering under the couch. Marinette’s eyes shot open as she realized her mistake. Scrabbling under the couch to snatch up her work phone, she sat on the floor as she put in her password, her smile widening when she saw that Luka had texted her less than 10 minutes before. 

Taking a deep breath she pushed call before she could talk herself out of it. She knew she’d made the right decision when she heard the smile in Luka’s voice as she answered her phone. It sounded like he was still out walking, and she remembered that the metro wasn’t running right then. “Hey. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I’m sorry for just running off on you like that.”

“I’m fine, Marinette. Thank you for checking on me. Did you make it home alright?”

“I did.” She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing in a rush. “If it’s not too far, did you just want to come over and have breakfast now?”

Luka was quiet for a moment, and Marinette rushed to fill the silence. “You don’t have to. I was just realizing that the metro has stopped for the night, and I don’t know how far away you live, and I just figured since we were both awake, I could cook something for us. Or not. It’s alright if you don’t want to. I mean, I do know how to cook. My parents own a bakery, so I promise I wouldn’t poison you. I mean… ugh. Why do you never stop my rambling?”

Hearing his soft chuckle she trailed off. “I would love to if you’re sure you are alright with it.”

Nodding, then realizing he wouldn’t be able to see her, she replied that she was, and gave him her address. He responded that he was just a few streets away, and would see her soon. 

Humming to herself, Marinette gathered ingredients as she started planning the meal. The oven was hot and she had a smudge of flour on her nose when she heard the knock on the door, and smile growing, went to let Luka in.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast happens! And a kiss!

Marinette had sliced some of the bread she had baked a few days before, as well as heating up some of the pain au chocolat she had made earlier in the week. She knew her parents would be horrified that she wasn’t serving fresh pastries, but at almost 4 am she wasn’t really up for real cooking. 

She’d set out the butter and jam, and arranged the food on the table, along with plates, silverware and two cups of hot chocolate. Coffee, she decided, would not be the best choice, although she could definitely use a cup or two. She’d just set the cups of the not-coffee on the table and was beginning to wonder if he would prefer tea when the knock came on her front door.  
.  
Marinette opened the door wearing an apron over the sundress she had on the last time she’d seen him, and her shoes were neatly tucked into a holder by the door. She welcomed Luka with a quick hug and ushered him in. He stared down at her for a moment before reaching out and wiping the flour off of her nose with his thumb. Her eyes grew round, but her smile didn’t waver as she turned and lead him to the table. 

Indicating the steaming pain au chocolat, Luka asked, “you baked this morning?”

Smiling coyly at him she responded, “kind of.” Relenting, she continued, “I had them made up, but not baked. Just please don’t tell my parents, they’d never forgive me serving something not baked that day!”

Chuckling as he reached for a pastry. “So your parents really are bakers?” Taking a bite, he groaned as the test exploded in his mouth. “Yep. They definitely are. This is delicious.”

Marinette smirked as she slathered strawberry jam on a slice of bread nibbling it delicately. Luka’s eyes watched her intently as her tongue went after an errant drop, but made no other movement towards it. 

Once they were both comfortably full Marinette started cleaning up the food from her kitchen table, waving Luka back into his chair as he stood to help her. He drew the line when she started in with the dirty dishes, that he wouldn’t need direction for. 

Side by side at the sink, they washed the breakfast dishes. Marinette swore that he didn’t have to, but Luka insisted, saying it was the least he could do for her cooking that delicious breakfast. She stretched to put the last dish in the cabinet, but Luka gently pulled it from her grasp and set it on the shelf for her. His arms came to rest on either side of hers on the countertop as she turned to face him, their bodies working in sync after so many hours of dancing. 

She rested her hands against his chest and pushed up on her toes. Luka dropped his head towards hers pausing a breath away from her lips, but no screams or akumas came this time to interrupt them, and Marinette closed the distance between them, her kiss searing and insistent, her hands sliding across his chest.

His tongue probed the seam of her lips, and she responded by nipping his lower lip before opening for him. Their tongues danced together, eventually separating as they gasped for air. Luka’s hands had come off the counter to grip her hips, and Marinette’s hands had fisted in his hair, as they panted, not wanting to separate. 

Hands slipping down to grip her thighs, Luka lifted Marinette to sit on the edge of the counter, easing their height difference, putting her on eye-level with him. He stepped up in between her legs, pressing his lips back to hers. As they were catching their breath once more, Luka let out a jaw-cracking yawn, and Marinette immediately started apologizing. 

Glancing at the clock, she noticed it was after 5 am. “Oh, Luka, I am so sorry for keeping you up so late. Do you want to go to bed?” Her face flamed at what she’d just said. “Do you want to sleep with me? I mean real sleep? You can sleep in my bed. Or on the couch. But I’d be fine with you in my bed. I mean I trust you while we’re asleep, and I have a pair of sweatpants I was making for a friend that should fit you if you wanted to take off your jeans. To sleep.” She bonked her head against his shoulder as he shook with laughter. “Why do you never stop me from talking?”

“Because you’re adorable, Little Bug. And I’m flattered that you want to sleep with me.” He waggled his eyebrows at her as her face got redder. “And I’d love to take you up on the offer for sleep, and I won’t press you for anything that you’re not comfortable with. Whether I sleep next to you or on the couch is up to you.”

She smiled up at him, gratitude shining in her eyes. “I know we just met, but I do trust you. You’ll be more comfortable on the bed than the couch, and we’re both exhausted.” He stepped back as she hopped off the counter, and headed into the spare bedroom. Following her to the doorway, he looked around at the sewing equipment and fabric everywhere, and tried very hard to keep his eyes off of her butt as it stuck up in the air, wiggling as she tried to work something out from the bottom of a pile of clothing.

With a triumphant cry, Marinette pulled a pair of navy blue workout pants that had a light brown monkey dancing across the leg and handed them to him. “These should fit you. They’re not going to be perfect, but they should do.” 

Thanking her, he slipped into the bathroom to change. Marinette changed in her bedroom, opening the door once she had on an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. Luka came out of the bathroom, jeans and black shirt neatly folded, socks folded and tucked in a pocket and he placed them on top of his shoes which sat by the front door. Turning back, he smiled at her and she beckoned him into her room.

He was hit by the fact that, while it was very pink and feminine, it was completely comfortable and inviting, and not just because of the woman standing by the bed, looking at him with wide eyes and a slight blush staining her cheeks. Luka smiled at her reassuringly as he slowly crossed the room towards her. She sat down on the queen-sized bed as he walked around to the other side, pausing as she still said nothing, just continued to stare at him. 

“It’s not too late to kick me to the couch, you know,” Luka said, still smiling. 

Marinette shook her head. “You’re not wearing a shirt,” she squeaked, blushing heavily. 

He looked down at himself and then ran his hand over his abs nervously. “I’m sorry. I always sleep like this, but I can go put one on if you want me to.”

“NO! I like this!” She blushed and rushed to cover up her blunder, but paused to think. “Actually, I do like this.” Her blush got darker, but she smiled up at him with those wide blue eyes, and Luka wondered if he’d better go sleep on the couch after all. 

Awkwardly they both got under the covers and lay there a little stiffly until Marinette said, “well, um, goodnight, Luka.”

“Goodnight Marinette. I have to admit though, I’m a little disappointed.”

He chuckled at her indignant squawk. “Well, I was kinda hoping for a goodnight kiss.”

She laughed along with him and sighed heavily. “Fine. If it’ll shut you up.”

He could feel her smile as she rolled on her side and hesitantly rested her hand on his bare chest before leaning in and pecking him chastely on the lips. He wrapped his arm around her waist, tucking her against him. Sighing, she rested her head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. 

Eyes closing, they fell asleep as the sun peaked over the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter one of Wrong Number-Deleted Scenes comes between this chapter and the next one.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day...
> 
> (OK, later that day... they did get to bed awfully late)
> 
> This is just a fluff bomb.

While the two humans were sleeping, Plagg slipped out of his nest and made a beeline for the kitchen, searching for the late-night snack that Marinette usually left out for him. His eyes locked onto the plate but widened in surprise as something red shifted near the musician’s guitar case. 

Jaw dropping open, he flew closer to make sure. “Tikki?” he whispered, incredulous, as a round head with huge blue eyes looked up at him, startled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with Luka.” She smiled sweetly. “He’s my new wielder, and he’s so creative! It’s nice to have a male bug. I don’t get them very often.” She sighed, wistfully. “But what are you doing here?”

Plagg gave her a look that told exactly what he thought of her ridiculous question. “I live here.” Sighing, he relented, because it was Tikki. “But she does have cookies.”

The little red kwami’s eyes lit up as she surveyed the kitchen, alighting on the pain au chocolate that was leftover from the breakfast that Luka and Marinette had shared a few hours earlier.

The soft snores that came from Marinette’s bedroom assured the kwamis that their humans were sleeping, so they sat in the kitchen snacking and chatting though much of the morning. 

It was a little past noon when they heard movement in the bedroom, but much longer before the telltale creak of someone getting out of bed was heard. Both kwamis hid, Tikki ducking back into Luka’s guitar case, and Plagg into Marinette’s sewing stash.

Marinette emerged from the bedroom and beelined towards the coffeemaker, turning it on before heading for the shower. The smell of coffee lured Luka out a few minutes later. Scrubbing his hand through his hair, he wandered into the kitchen opening the correct cabinet on the first try and grabbing coffee mugs. While he waited for the pot to finish brewing, he stretched, arms stretching over his head, fingertips brushing the low ceiling, shoulders and back cracking, then rolling his neck, fully relaxing his upper body as he lowered his arms again. 

He was pouring coffee into two mugs when Marinette emerged from the bathroom in jeans and a tank top, damp hair curling around her neck. Her face was free of makeup and he noticed a smattering of freckles dusting her nose. Smiling softly, he unconsciously pressed his right hand to his bare chest, feeling his heart skipping a beat as he looked at her. 

Marinette blushed under Luka’s gaze as she tried, and failed, to keep her eyes on his face. Her blush deepened as he chuckled, but all he asked was how she took her coffee, turning his back to her, giving them both a chance to stop staring. When he’d poured a slug of milk into both cups, he turned back, one extended to her. 

Crossing the small kitchen, she took the mug from his hand, clasping it with both of her own and lifting it to her mouth, she breathed in the steam coming off the hot coffee as her eyes met his. “Did you want to shower?”

He nodded, eyes closing as he took his first sip of coffee, sighing as the caffeine hit his system. “If you don’t mind. I usually shower right after a show, and while I have absolutely no regrets, I am not feeling very fresh right now.” 

“Do you need clothes? I could probably dig up something from my sewing room.”

“Thank you. I’m good. I always carry a change of clothes with me.” At Marinette’s raised eyebrow, he chuckled. “I usually shower right after a show,” he repeated. “ Some places I can shower there, other times I’m at a bandmate’s house. I’m not always at home.”

Her smile reappeared as she finally sipped her coffee. She padded, barefoot, across the kitchen and he watched the sway of her hips as she made her way towards him. Marinette set her mug down on the kitchen table and stepping up to Luka, gently tugged the mug out of his hands setting it next to hers. She turned back to him, slipping her arms around his neck, and rolling up on her toes to kiss him. 

Luka melted into the kiss, his hands slipping around her waist, feeling Marinette’s fingers toying with his hair. He didn’t let the kiss linger too much protesting that he needed to shower, then he wanted to take her out to lunch since they’d missed their breakfast date. 

Her stomach agreed before she could, growling at the mention of food, and they both laughed before Luka leaned down, dropping a kiss at her temple before reaching for his coffee and draining the rapidly cooling cup. The sound of Marinette’s laughter followed him as he grabbed his clothes and made his way to the shower. 

Sipping her coffee while Luka showered, Marinette smiled as she thought about the man she only met a few days ago but felt like she’d already known him a lifetime. Being around him felt so comfortable, and even when she said or did something that would normally have her cringing in embarrassment his calm demeanor had her just laughing it off alongside him. 

It was as if her thoughts had the power to summon him. Looking up, she saw Luka standing in the doorway, one of her pink towels in his hand, drying his blue hair. She smiled up at him from where she leaned against the kitchen counter, and he returned her smile, walking over to where she stood. When he easily lifted her onto the sideboard, she let out a surprised ‘eep’ but quickly dissolved into giggles until he leaned in for a kiss.

The kiss was gentle and sweet and spoke of potential and new beginnings and Marinette just melted against Luka. The kiss stayed chaste, and when they broke apart, she rested her forehead against his as her heartrate settled back to normal. This time it was Luka’s stomach that growled, drawing Marinette’s musical laugh from her. “Come on, Rockstar, let’s go eat.”

Retrieving the jacket she’d worn the previous evening, Marinette slipped it on and stepped into her sewing room to grab her purse. While she was out of the room, Luka whispered to Tikki to hide in his leather jacket, and she disappeared just as Marinette emerged from her sewing room, humming one of the songs he’s sung onstage the night before. 

Luka’s gaze softened as the music reached his ears, and the lovestruck smile that he was fairly certain hadn’t been far from his face since Thursday night was back in full force. As they left her apartment and she slipped her hand into his, the smile just grew. They chatted as they walked to a small restaurant near her home. 

A rather late lunch of bread, fruit, and cheese had them telling stories of how they each knew Nino and other mutual acquaintances. They were surprised at the sheer number of acquaintances they shared, including his sister, whom Marinette had spent a couple of years in school with. 

They were walking along the Seine later that afternoon when Marinette’s phone started to ring. She ignored it, but by the third time it started up, Luka was chuckling next to her. Shooting him a dirty look, Marinette fished it out of her purse, groaning when she saw Alya’s name. Answering the phone, Alya immediately started firing question upon question, not giving Marinette the chance to answer any of them.

They’d stopped their walk and were leaning against a half wall, Luka losing his battle and shaking with silent laughter. Marinette stuck her tongue out at him as Alya wound down her questioning. Hedging, Marinette asked, “what was your first question?”

She missed the answer as Luka held out his hand for the phone and she grinned as she passed it over. “I’m sorry, Alya, Marinette is busy right now.” He ended the call, but not before they both heard Alya’s squeal.

Marinette dropped her head against his chest. “Luka!” She whined, “Alya’s going to get the wrong idea about what we’re doing.”

Laughing again, Luka wrapped his arms around her, snuggling her up against him. He buried his face in her hair, his expression turning serious. “What _are_ we doing?” The question was barely more than a whisper, but Marinette heard it and pulled back to look up at him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot before looking back up at her. 

He ran his fingers through her hair, letting the silken strands flow from his fingers before reaching up to ruffle his own hair. “I know we’ve just met, Marinette, but I like you. I really like you, and I would love to take you out again.”

Blue eyes looked over his face as her hand came up to cup his cheek, and Marinette blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I feel the same way, Luka. I would love to go out with you again. If we swing by the market, I can make some dinner tonight.”

In answer, Luka’s lips met hers, and the rest of the world faded away. Marinette’s hands slid into his hair, while his hands held onto her waist. Pulling back before he got too lost in her, he suggested, voice suddenly gravelly, that maybe they should head to the market. Dazed eyes looked back at him as her small hand slid into his much larger one. Both of their smiles were radiant as they meandered through the sun-drenched streets towards the market.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Luka spend more time together. Lady Midnight learns something about Scarlet Beetle that might just explain why he has no tolerance for those who hurt others, and a proposal is made. (No.. not that kind... it's only been 2 days since Marinette accidentally texted him).

Marinette sat on the couch in Luka’s apartment curled up on the couch with him. She leaned against the armrest, her legs draped over his lap; hands flying as she talked animatedly about some of her favorite designs. Luka was watching her, fingers playing chords on her legs, only understanding one word in five, but loving the time they spent together. 

She was becoming an addiction to him. He didn’t want to let her go. Actually, he thought, other than the akuma attack, he hadn’t left her side since they’d met, and he couldn’t think of a reason that was not a good thing. He half wanted to ask her to move in with him on the spot. 

They were talking about family, he was telling her all about his sister and mother, and as she listened, she played with the bracelets he wore on his wrist, colorful pieces, some with meaning, others just because he liked the look, and the thick leather cuff that he always wore. Her blue eyes were locked on his, and he was lost in them, the words flowing more freely from his mouth than they usually did.

Luka was generally a very private man. He was happy to be in the spotlight, but his life was his own, and not out there for people to be examining. He sighed when Marinette’s fingers started stroking the inside of his wrist; her soft touch making him want to kiss her until she agreed to never leave him, when he felt her gasp as her finger slid under the edge of the cuff. 

Closing his eyes, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, he gently tugged his hand free of her grasp, looking away as a blush stole into his cheeks. 

“Luka?” Marinette reached for his hand, but he pulled it out of her reach, and her hands awkwardly fluttered to her lap, and she looked away, suddenly shy.

“No, Marinette, I’m sorry. It’s just an old injury, and I’ve been self-conscious about it for so long. Do you want to see?

She reached out, covering the cuff and his wrist with her hand. “Only if you want to show it to me.” 

Undoing the lace in the leather wrap, Luka slipped it off his wrist, and showed her the nasty burn scar that wrapped from the inside of his right wrist at the base of his thumb, all the way around to the back of his wrist. 

“What happened?” Marinette reached out one tentative finger to trace the burn mark, before lifting his wrist to her mouth to pepper kisses over it.

Reaching over and running his fingers through her hair to compose himself, he sighed. “My father happened. I was six, he went to hit my mum with the pan and I got in the way. I didn’t know it was hot.”

Marinette’s eyes flew to his, full of sadness and compassion. “Oh Luka, I am so sorry that happened to you, and I’m sorry that I pried.”

He offered her a half-smile. “Not your fault, Marinette. It’s fine. It was a long time ago.”

Eyes not leaving his, she leaned in and kissed his cheek, tucking his hair behind his ear, searching his face for, well, he wasn’t sure. Leaning in, he rested his forehead against hers, blowing out his breath through his nose, pulling himself back together. Marinette’s gentle presence helped, calming him as she just held him, strong fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She just let him be, not pressing him, but not leaving him, either. He kissed her cheek before pulling back and reaching for his guitar. 

Marinette sensed that he needed a few minutes, so she busied herself in his kitchen, washing the dinner dishes and putting away the leftovers. She was just straightening up from putting things in the fridge when she felt strong arms wrapping themselves around her. Luka buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and relaxing the rest of the way. “Thank you, Marinette. I’m sorry. It’s not a time I talk about very much. I keep the scar covered so that it isn’t a constant reminder.”

Turning in his arms, she pressed her lips to his, cupping his cheek in her hand as she pulled away. He reached up and grasped her wrist lightly, and she smiled at him. “It’s ok, Luka. I understand. I do. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

His arms banded tightly around her and she melted into him, her hands resting against his chest, feeling his heart beating under her hands. Her lips found the space over his heart, and she kissed the spot over his t-shirt, and he smiled into her hair. They stayed that way for a while, taking comfort from each other, and eventually Marnette took a step back. 

Sighing heavily, Marinette disentangled herself from Luka. “As much as I want to stay, I probably do need to go home. But…” She looked up at him shyly from under her lashes. “Can I take you to brunch tomorrow? Since we kind of missed it today.”

He stroked her cheek and smiled at her. “If you have to leave, then I guess a promise to see you tomorrow morning is the best that I can get. Their goodnight kiss lingered longer than either of them had planned, and both were breathless before they pulled apart. Luka combed his fingers through her hair before placing a final kiss on her forehead. 

Luka walked with her to the entranceway to the building, before Marinette turned to kiss him again. “Are you planning on walking me all the way home?” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not unless that’s an invitation?”

Marinette bumped him gently with her hip. “I promise to call you when I get home.”

He nodded, sighing dramatically, holding his hands over his heart. Marinette laughed at his theatrics, and relented, kissing him again, gripping his shirt desperately, as if the twelve hours until she saw him again were actually twelve weeks. This time it was Luka who pulled back, albeit reluctantly. “Go home… before I beg you to stay.”

Smiling, Marinette gave him one last, chaste kiss, and turned to walk down the sidewalk. She swore she heard him whisper “Please stay,” but resolutely headed back towards her apartment. 

Once she made it home, she texted Luka as she had promised, and they texted back and forth for half an hour before an akuma alert interrupted them. Hating to lie, but not wanting to just disappear, Marinette quickly messaged that Alya was calling, making a mental note to call Alya once she was back.

Plagg, who had been napping in her bag all day, obviously sneaking into the insulated pocket, by how little cheese was left. Grinning at the little cat, Marinette called for her transformation and bounded from her balcony into the night. 

Papillion was ruthless this time, akumatizing someone who caught the person who had wronged them, and by the time Lady Midnight arrived, the person caught in the akuma’s sights was in pretty rough shape. It was another minute before Scarlet Beetle arrived, but once he saw the severity of the situation and that Lady Midnight was already in the fray, he jumped in immediately. The fight was not going their way, so The pair relocated to a nearby roof to regroup, the akuma ignoring them, bent on vengeance. 

Blood dripped from Scarlet Beetle’s wrist, and they glanced at it, seeing the rent in his suit that went from the back of his hand, extending halfway up his forearm. Lady Midnight gasped in shock, grasping his arm and gently pulling it towards her. Shaking his head, Scalet Beetle told her that he would be fine, but Lady Midnight’s attention was laser-focused on the scar that had been exposed under the skin. A scar that was very familiar, for all she had only seen it for the first time a few hours earlier. 

Her gloved finger traced it softly, and Scarlet Beetle flinched. Frowning, Lady Midnight met his eyes, and studied him for a few moments, before nodding. “We will talk later, but first, the akuma.”

Plan in place, the two swung into action, releasing the akuma. Before they went their separate ways, Scarlet Beetle with the formerly akumatized, Lady Midnight with the one who had been the target, she turned to her partner and pointed at the Montparnasse Tower. “Meet me at the top? Half an hour? It’s important.”

Scarlet Beetle looked at his partner, thinking she just wanted to talk about the burn scar on his wrist and nodded. She’d had some kind of revelation… or thought she had, and he knew it was important to talk with her. He shook his head, thinking he’d gone years without anyone seeing it, and it had been revealed twice in one night. It must mean something. He agreed to meet with his partner, and they were off.

After dropping off a very shaken and apologetic victim with his family, Scarlet Beetle made his way to the Montparnasse tower where Lady Midnight was waiting for him. She looked up at him from where she was nervously pacing, her bright green eyes luminous in her pale face. For the first time since he had met her, she looked nervous. 

He smiled at her reassuringly. They normally met up after dropping their respective people off, but her request before they parted had made it feel different. Urgent. Lady Midnight had stopped pacing but watched him as walked towards her, cat-like eyes flicking back and forth, between his own, and his wrist. He knew his eyes were a brighter, clearer blue when he was joined with Tikki, but she was obviously looking for something in them. 

“It’s an old wound.” Scarlet Beetle broke the silence, indicating his arm. “It happened many years ago. You don’t need to worry about it.” He couldn’t help the way his voice hitched at the end, nor the way Lady Midnight’s face softened. 

“That’s why you didn’t want me calling you Scar. When I was trying to come up with a nickname for you. I wondered.” Lady Midnight shook her head. “I’m sorry Luka. I had no idea.” Her eyes pored over his face as he registered what she said. “I didn’t mean to find out this way, but I thought you should know.”

Scarlet Beetle’s jaw worked, but no words came out, so Lady Midnight continued. “I guess this helps explain why I was so immediately attracted to you.” She laughed. “Yeah, me and half of Paris, but why I felt like I knew you as soon as I met you. Because I did already know and trust you, I just didn’t realize it yet. But…” Her eyes grew even wider as she buried her face in her hands. “Oh no. I showed you the lingerie that I’d based on...” She waved her hand in his general direction before collapsing against him, hiding her face in his chest, the rest of her rant was slightly muffled. “Based on YOU” She pulled back slightly to glare at him accusingly. “Why do you NEVER stop me talking?”

The realization hit him as she was talking, the feel of her pressed against him achingly familiar, as he gazed down at her face, his finger coming up to trace the freckles he’d traced so many times in the past 24 hours. “Marinette.” Her name came out on a sigh, and his grin only widened as she nodded, slipping his arms around her waist. “Come home with me?”

She smiled at him. “Let me grab a few things from my place and I’ll meet you there?”

If anyone saw Lady Midnight slip into an alley half an hour later a few blocks from Luka’s apartment carrying an overnight bag, they didn’t say anything. When Marinette knocked on Luka’s door a few minutes later, it opened almost immediately, and Luka pulled her into an embrace that left them both panting, and Marinette’s hands fisted in his shirt. 

They maneuvered to the living room where Luka immediately pulled her into his lap on the couch. They spent the time kissing and talking, pieces of their personalities falling into place. Eventually, Luka mentioned that it was getting late. They stood, and as if on a whim, he asked Marinette, “Move in with me.”

Shaking her head she smiled at him. “My place is bigger.”

He nodded sagely. “But mine is soundproofed.” At her raised eyebrow he simply said, “band equipment.” 

She laughed as she tugged out her ponytail, before walking towards the bedroom. At the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “OK. My lease is up next month.”

He stood speechless as she went to change before a smile blossomed, threatening to split his face in two, before he hurried after her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette moves in, and Papillon shows herself for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter done! (since MAY!! I apologize!) Other plunnies and stories got in the way!

Mornings with Marinette were everything he hoped they would be. Waking up wrapped up together, lazy kisses leading to a frantic rush as she tried to get to work on time. Or sometimes it was her, making him late for one of his gigs. Especially if she arrived home before he had to leave, she would kiss him senseless, mussing his stage makeup, and forcing him to reapply and restyle his hair. 

He loved the lazy weekends, and the evenings they spent together, each creating in their own way, feeding off each other’s energy. He loved when he’d see her in the crowd at his shows. He just loved her. Luka had never had a partnership, professional or romantic, quite like it before, and he was addicted. They weren’t always in sync; Marinette was a bundle of energy, throwing herself full force into everything, while Luka preferred a more laid-back approach, but both were willing to compromise, and neither ever regretted their spontaneous decision to move in together. 

Almost all of Marinette’s personal belongings had migrated to his apartment; her comfortable new couch replaced his old ratty one, and his small galley kitchen was practically bursting with her culinary supplies. His bed, their bed now he guessed, was covered with her pink polka-dotted sheets, and her sewing paraphernalia sat cheek to jowl with his music equipment. 

It was nice, too, not to have to make excuses when an akuma attacked, they simply went, or if they happened to be with friends, it was assumed they were making their excuses to have some alone time, and were never stopped or questioned too deeply, only lightly teased.

Lady Midnight and Scarlet Beetle rarely showed up together, usually taking different routes to arrive at the same place, trying to hide the fact that they were arriving from the same direction. When they were fighting crime, they stayed professional, both to keep their identities a secret as well as to hide the fact that they were more than just crime fighting partners. If Lady Midnight pounced on Scarlet Beetle when they were back in their apartment, kissing him until both Marinette and Luka replaced the heroes, well, that was something the rest of the world remained unaware of. 

One evening, Luka was working on a song for his studio, cross legged on the couch, guitar resting in his lap, pencil clamped between his teeth, occasionally pulling it out to scribble on the notebook that rested on the arm of the couch. Marinette sat beside him, designs spread out before her, humming as she sifted through the explosion of fabric swatches, a riot of yellow and orange, searching for the right fabrics for the new Agreste fall line she’d been tapped to work on. 

Marinette, humming along with the tune Luka was playing, stood and passed behind the sofa on her way to her bag to grab a piece of sunset colored lace, dropping a kiss on the top of Luka’s head both coming and going, causing his lips to quirk around the pencil. Marinette’s butt had just hit the couch, when their phones sounded with an akuma alert. Sighing, she dropped the lace onto her notebook, and smiled ruefully as Plagg and Tikki poked their heads out of the kitchen. 

“Looks like we’re up.” Marinette grinned tiredly at the little kwami, but Plagg still groaned. 

Luka stood and stretched his arms over his head, and Marinette took the opportunity to dart forward and kiss his cheek before he could grab hold of her. “I’ll see you there.” She smiled at him before calling for her transformation and leaping from their balcony. Scarlet Beetle was twenty seconds behind her. 

There was nothing unusual about this fight, the pair working seamlessly together, and they were getting close to plucking the akumatized bracelet off his wrist when all hell broke loose. The akuma, who appeared to be made completely out of metal, pulled a blade out of nowhere, and slashed at Scarlet Beetle. He dodged, but not fast enough, and tumbled from the roof. 

It was only two stories to the ground, but he hit and lay unmoving, blood flowing both from his mangled right arm and his head. Lady Midnight let out a terrible growl, and launched herself at the akuma, claws out, and eyes slit. Only her cat-like agility allowed her to twist away in time when the bright purple butterfly suddenly separated from the akuma’s bracelet, the butterfly’s color draining from violet to white. 

The person the akuma had been after had vanished the instant that Lady Midnight and Scarlet Beetle had arrived on the scene and Lady Midnight didn’t give him a second thought. She did hesitate after depositing the victim on the sidewalk, but once the former akuma assured her he was fine, she dashed to Scarlet Beetle’s side. 

The pool of blood underneath Scarlet Beetle was growing, but slowly, and he was struggling as if he wanted to sit up. With gentle pressure on his shoulders, Lady Midnight held him back down. “Don’t move. Hold on, Rockstar, let me check you out first.” Her hands came away sticky with his blood, but the wound on his head wasn’t terrible. The same could not be said for his arm, laying still and nerveless against the ground, angle unnatural, the slash across the inside of his elbow deep enough to assure her that he would be unable to use it for quite some time. 

There was a rustling at the entrance to the alleyway, and Lady Midnight moved protectively in front of Scarlet Beetle. The woman who stood before them was strong and muscular, yet completely ethereal, her knee-length dress grading from a deep royal purple to the palest of lavender, a stricken expression on her stern face. 

“Papillon!” Lady Midnight gasped. 

The figure nodded, the violet swirl of her dress’ cape appeared as wings bobbing behind her. “I am so sorry. I never meant for this…” she gestured to where Scarlet Beetle lay on the ground, “to happen. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. It started as a quest for justice. I never intended to become the villain myself.” Her words were dramatic, but they were delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone, that Lady Midnight believed her. 

Papillon shook her head, as if to dispel the burst of emotion, and squared her shoulders. “I do have some first aid training. What can I do to help?”

Lady Midnight goggled at her curt tone, but then turned to allow Papillon to see where Scarlet Beetle lay. She was hesitant to let Papillon approach him, but when he caught her eyes, an understanding passed between them. 

“Let’s help him to sit.” She turned to Papillon, assessing the other woman, as they managed to prop Scarlet Beetle up against the wall. He moaned in pain at the jostling of his arm, but was coherent enough to reassure Lady Midnight that it was just his arm, not anything else. She scoffed at that, knowing just how important the use of his right arm was to him; music wasn’t just his job, it was his life. 

Throwing a glance over her shoulder at Papillon. Lady Midnight cupped Scarlet Beetle’s cheek, tilting his head up to look at her. “Can you call for a Lucky Charm?” 

Scarlet Beetle looked down at his arm, and tried to will his fingers to move. Nothing happened. After a few more tries, he shook his head, frustrated, only to wince in pain at the sudden movement. 

Lady Midnight’s face softened, and her hand gently stole over his.

“Maybe if he uses his left hand?” The no-nonsense voice of Papillon cut through Lady Midnight’s spiraling thoughts. “You can use that one, can’t you?” Papillon addressed Scarlet Beetle. 

He nodded, more cautiously this time, and reached for his yo-yo with his left hand. The toss was weak, and wobbled in the air, but the magic still caught hold, even though the call of ‘Lucky Charm’ was laced with pain. Lady Midnight chuckled mirthlessly at the box of bandaids that she snatched from the air.

Lady Midnight glared at the box until Papillon slid it from her hand, pulling out a bandage and applying it to Scarlet Beetle’s arm. She then placed the box in his left hand instructing him to throw it. 

Scarlet Beetle made the upward motion, crying out as he called for the cleansing burst of ladybugs, but it was Lady Midnight who ended up tossing the box in the air. The bandages started to rain back down, but turned into the magical beetles that wrapped themselves around Scarlet Beetle’s arm, healing both suit and skin. 

As the supernatural bugs faded from the air, Lady Midnight watched the fingers on Scarlet Beetle’s right hand twitch, then flex and curl into a fist. Her eyes flew to his face, and he nodded, shrugging his shoulder, and shaking out his right arm, subtly demonstrating that he had regained full range of motion. Once she was satisfied with the lack of pain he was demonstrating, the pair turned to face Papillon. 

The woman before them, for all her upright posture and precision of speech, hung her head like a naughty child. “I offer you my apologies. Neither of you deserved to get hurt. That was never my intention.” 

Lady Midnight held up a hand, cutting her off. “But you did intend for people to get hurt? Just not us.” Her voice was dripping with venom, now that the fear for her partner had faded, a blazing anger took its place. 

“Only those who deserved it.”

Scarlet Beetle frowned. “And who are you to decide who deserves it?”

A furrow formed between Papillon’s eyebrows. “A daughter who is seeking justice for the murder of her father. And I seek justice for a friend who’s mother is long missing.”

“And taking free will from victims and family members of victims is the way to do that?” The crease between Scarlet Beetle’s brows deepened as he looked sternly at the woman before him. She was a contradiction in so many ways, strong yet ephemeral, determined and contrite, fighting crime by becoming a villain. Scarlet Beetle shook his head. “I feel for you. I do. I know what it’s like to lose a parent, but forcing others to do your dirty work? That’s vengeance, not justice. That’s what Ms. Kitty over here tells me.”

Lady Midnight glared at the nickname, but then grinned up at him, her smile extending to encompass Papillon. “What you are trying to do is a good thing. You’re trying to get closure for those who need it, and justice for those who deserve it.” She paused, feline eyes raking Papillon, head tilted considering her.

“Would you consider working together, Little Butterfly? Maybe together we could find those who hurt your family, and become a true force for good in Paris.” She purred at Papillon. 

Papillon looked taken aback. “I… I…”

Scarlet Beetle reached out his newly healed arm, gripping Papillon’s shoulder in his hand. “Think about it. We can meet up again in a few days if you agree. If you don’t…” He gestured at the alley that surrounded them. “Keep doing what you’re doing. We’ll get the idea.”

“Yes.” 

Both Scarlet Beetle and Lady Midnight looked at Papillon in surprise. “Yes, I want to work with you. We shall meet up the day after tomorrow. Midnight. There.” She pointed at the nearby Montparnasse Tower. The two heroes turned to look at it, and when they turned back, Papillon was gone. 

“Well!” huffed Lady Midnight, turning back to her partner, her hand running gently down his arm, reassuring herself that it was intact. “That was not what I expected tonight.” 

Scarlet Beetle shook his head. “Me either. I hope she’s sincere. She seemed it, but I do fear we’ll be walking into a trap.” 

Lady Midnight nodded slowly. “So do I. But that is a worry for another day. Right now, I want to get you home and look at that arm.”

Chuckling, Scarlet Beetle pulled her into a quick hug, and they separated, less cautious than usual, hurrying home to talk about tonight’s new development.


End file.
